


Catch Me If You Can

by I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: A tiny bit of French, Age Difference, Anal Sex, Bars and Pubs, Blood, Blow Jobs, Buckle up, Cause this is gonna be a ride, Dark, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Seriously if you don't want to read blood I wouldn't read this, Strip Tease, Vampire Bites, a lot of it, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 22:48:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue/pseuds/I_Dream_In_Electric_Blue
Summary: Parents always tell their children "Don't talk to strangers." But sometimes they just never listen.





	Catch Me If You Can

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StrawberryBasketCase](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryBasketCase/gifts).



> The French translations are at the bottom if you're curious what he's saying when you get to that part. Also when I say this is dark I mean it. 
> 
> This is for you, Strawberry. You've been trying different endings and different things in your work and I'll try and do the same, though I'm not very good with this kind of stuff like you are. I hope you like it though!

His eyes scan the bar before landing on someone, a dark haired man who was drinking alone. He was cute and gave off a certain kind of vibe that Patrick liked it. He adjusts the jacket he's wearing and pulls the hot pants up a little more to show off his legs. He walks over beside him when the bartender was close by. The bartender locks eyes with him and he smiles, "could you get me something sweet, please?" The man hesitated but nodded and he thanked him as he walks off. He felt eyes watching him, looking at his face and trailing down to check him out. He looked at the man through his peripheral seeing him sip his beer as his eyes raked over him. The bartender brings back some fruity cocktail and walks off to take care of the man at the other end. He can still feel the dark haired man's eyes on him. He smiles bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, "you know, if you take a picture it'll last longer."

The man looked away and smiled shaking his head. Patrick turns and sits beside him. He looked over him. He wore all black, a dark jacket on top of his midnight shirt.

"I'm sorry I stared."

"It's okay, I don't mind," he says swirling the glass a little slowly, "so, do you like what you see?"

He hesitates but Patrick bit his lip, already knowing the answer before he asked. The man smiles and takes a sip of his beer before he turns his head to look at him, "you know, you look a little young to be in a place like this."

"I'm not, I'm twenty-one," he smiles taking another sip of his drink.

"Bullshit. How old are you for real?"

"Seventeen, but I'll be eighteen in a few days."

He takes Patrick's drink away from him, "alright, why don't you head home. I'm sure your parents are worried sick about you, kid."

He almost laughs at that but reaches for his drink. When the man pulls it to the other side of him just out of Patrick's reach he places a hand on the man's thigh and leans forward taking his drink and moving back to his seat. The man's face is a little red and he licks over his lips looking at Patrick.

"What's wrong? You look a little red. Do I make you nervous?"

"I've just never seen someone quite like you around. Well, here at least"

"What? Gay," he asks smiling and cocking a brow.

He licks his lips, "pretty. I've never had anyone as pretty as you sit by someone like me."

He smiles and sets his drink down reaching to place his hand on the other man's.

"I find that hard to believe."

"It's the truth," he says as Patrick flips the man's hand over and begins tracing the lines on his palm.

"Well, they must be stupid because you're very attractive," he tells him, noticing the guitar pick necklace he has on, "guitar. Do you play?"

"Sometimes," he says letting Patrick reach out and touch it, "I used to be in a band when I was younger."

"Were you any good," he asks.

"I like to think so," he tells him taking another swig of his beer.

He seems comfortable around him, but it's clear that Patrick will have to be the one to say something.

"I've always heard guitars players are amazing lovers, that they're very good with their fingers," he says.

The guy's eyes widen and he almost chokes on his drink. He coughs and splutters a bit before looking back at him. Patrick looks up from his empty glass and sets it on the counter giggling as he watches the older man, "so, is it true?"

"I wouldn't know."

Patrick laces their fingers together, "maybe we can go back to my place and you can help me find out?"

He looks at their hands, the soft pale thumb rubbing against the side of his finger. Then down down to look at the pale thighs, the hot pants seeming skin tight on him. Finally he looks back up to the brilliant blue eyes whose lashes bat patiently waiting for an answer. There's a pause until the brown eyes blink out of their trance and he smiles big, "yeah."

The man bites his lip causing the blond to smile, "yeah, that sounds good."

He stands from his stool, letting go of his hand. The man takes one last sip of his beer before standing and putting money on the counter for both drinks. The man's arm goes around him, underneath the jacket and shirt holding onto his bare hip. The blond sucks in a breath at the contact but lets him keep it there. They make it outside and the dark haired man's already mouthing at his neck, "what's your name, pretty boy?"

"Patrick," he smiles, "what's yours?"

"Pete," he says.

"Pete," Patrick repeats his name back almost purring it, "I like it."

"I like the way you say it," he tells him before he pulls from him, "where's your car?"

"I walked here," he says.

He laughed, "what? Were you just going to walk back home, a pretty little thing like you all by yourself?"

He giggles when Pete's tongue goes in his ear, "I'm not scared of anything."

The man's grip on him tighten and his tongue stops.

"You should be," Pete says against his skin.

There was a pause when he said it that Patrick didn't exactly like, but then Pete smiles a friendly smile, "you never know what kind of weirdos are going to be out at night."

He pushes the blond hair from the boy's face, "you should be careful on your own, Patrick."

Pete guides him to his car and Patrick gets in and buckles up when the man gets in the driver's side. Once the car starts the doors automatically lock making Patrick turn to look at them. Pete speaks, "the doors do that when I turn the car on."

Patrick nods and shifts in his seat.

He laughs, "I thought you weren't scared of anything."

"I'm not," he says, but Pete didn't believe him.

He cups Patrick's face kissing him gently. When he pulls back he thu mbs over Patrick's cheek, "goddamn, you are so fucking pretty."

Patrick smiles at the compliment and Pete kisses him again, but when he pulls back this time his hands go to the wheel, "why don't you play with the radio while you give me directions?"

Patrick nods and reaches for the knobs turning them until he finds a good station. Pete watches him the whole time, but Patrick doesn't seem to notice.

\----

They're back at Patrick's house and Pete's taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. The house is huge and quiet, maybe even a little too quiet. He kicks off his shoes and motions for Patrick to come over. He smiles and leans down kissing him softly. His hands slip around the boy's waist and he's walking forwards with him until he starts to worry. Were they alone?

"This place is huge," he breathes, "your parents aren't home are they?"

"No," he says, his hands sliding up Pete's chest, "no one's home."

"So I don't have to try and keep you quiet," he asks in a slightly gruff voice.

"Nope," he breathes, "we can be as loud as we want. No parents. No neighbors. Just you and me."

"I like the sound of that," he says kissing him rougher.

Patrick's hesitant at first, but he tries to kiss back. It's sweet and gently and Pete thinks it's adorable. He goes to kiss his neck and the blond is weak, he's practically melting in his arms, and the man loves it. Patrick lets out soft breaths, and he's moaning from a few kisses like a virgin. Pete thinks it's the hottest thing ever and he begins to wonder if maybe he might be a virgin. He starts to regret coming here with him. Patrick's still technically a kid and still very illegal while Pete _looks_ and _is_ old enough to be his dad. It doesn't bother him after a while. He knows its wrong, what he's about to do, but it doesn't stop him from sliding his hand down the back of Patrick's shorts to grab his ass. When Patrick gasps Pete lets go of him.

"Sorry," the blond tells him pressing back up against him, "I'm just not used to hands like yours."

"Hands of a guitarist," he asks raising a brow.

Patrick laughs, "I'm afraid I'm not exactly used to any of this."

That confirmed Pete's suspicion about him being a virgin. His hands move picking him up and pushing him against the wall next to the stairs. The dark haired man's mouth is hot on his neck and suddenly Patrick doesn't think he wants to go upstairs yet. Pete's got both eyes closed when he breathes him in, "you smell so good." 

Patrick gasps when his teeth drag down his skin and his hands grab Pete's shoulders 

"The wall can't be comfortable," Pete tells him, "how about we get you in bed."

"Um," Patrick says trying to talk in the confident voice from before, "how about I make us some drinks first?"

Pete pulls back to look at him and he talks again, "does that sound okay?"

Patrick bites his lip waiting for a response and Pete notices how nervous he is and nods smiling, "yeah. Yeah, sounds great. You go do that."

"Okay. You just sit on the couch and get comfortable," Patrick smiles, "and I'll be right back!"

He sets him down and he walks off into the next room. Patrick grabs the bottles from the fridge mixing the drinks while watching him from the door. Pete spreads his legs and grabs the crotch of his jeans adjusting them. The boy smiles and puts everything away before carrying both glasses into the living room being careful not to spill them. He hands one to Pete and takes off his shoes sitting beside him on the couch. Pete drinks from his glass as Patrick does.

"Wow, you made this?"

He nods.

"I wouldn't have expected a seventeen year old to know how to mix drinks."

"I know how to do lots of things," he tells him nodding.

"Yeah?"

"I could show you," he says and it's sort of a question.

It makes Pete feel attractive the way he seems to want to please him, it makes him feel in control. He smiles, "show me."

Patrick stands, "could you push that table forward out of the way a little for me?"

He nods and sets his drink beside him pushing the table away as Patrick walks over to the wall radio. He puts in a CD and once it's the right song he presses play and turns around. The music has a slow club feel to it and Patrick walks over to stand in front of him. He sways his hips back and forth and when the singer starts out the lyrics aren't quick and they take their time with pronunciation. Patrick takes off his jacket and lets it drop to the floor. He turns and moves his hips slower. Pete takes his drink and sips it slow watching him turn back around. He sets the drink aside when Patrick sinks down to his knees in front of him. Patrick's hands slide up his legs and to his knees spreading them apart a little more and leaning forward up to Pete's mouth. Soft hands travel up his thighs and Patrick leans in close making Pete expect a kiss. Their lips don't meet and instead he stands back up slow and turns. His hands go back to Pete's knees and he slowly sways his hips from side to side. The man reaches out placing his hands on Patrick's hips making him turn his head to look at him. He smiles and takes them off himself before straddling him. The brown eyes look him up and down and he thinks in his lap is where Patrick belongs. The blond grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off himself before taking Pete's hand and bringing it to his mouth. He slides his tongue up his pointer finger taking it past his lips and sucks on it gently. Pete swallows hard, his eyes on his lips. When Patrick pulls the finger from his wet mouth he gives it a gentle kiss and Pete can't help it. He stands, picks Patrick up, and moves him onto the fluffy white carpet. He doesn't move too hard, but it's enough to make the blond emit a small noise in surprise. He kisses him hard and slides his fingers into the sides of his hot pants and underwear pulling them down his legs desperate to get between his thighs. Once they're off he kisses Patrick again and the blond kisses back carefully. Large hands travel up his hips while Patrick doesn't touch him at all, like he isn't sure what to do. His mouth moves to the blond's neck and he lets out small breaths and soft moans.

"Fuck, I want you," Pete tells him.

His jeans get tighter with the noises he makes.

Patrick lets out a breath and whispers, "tell me again."

He pulls back looking down at him and Patrick's blue eyes are looking up at him. Pete thinks it's cute the way he fakes confidence and pretends to know what he's doing.

He smiles a wolf-like grin, "I want you."

And then Patrick's smiling again.

Before Pete can lean down, a long arm comes over his shoulder and three fingers pierce the skin on the other side of his neck tearing a straight line across his throat. Patrick watches the line form while hot blood spews from the cut and lands on his mouth, neck, and torso. His eyes go to Pete's face, the man looked shocked and begins to turn pale as he watched more blood rain down onto Patrick. A second later Pete is pushed out of the way by a polished shoe that looked brand new. The blue eyes look up at the dark figure now standing over him. Patrick sits up and looks towards Pete, who was laying beside him, the brown eyes looking into his as the blood pooled from the wound soaking into the white fluff. He turns to look at the man standing above him. The man laughs looking down at Patrick licking the blood from one of his fingers, "god I love watching you play with your food."

"You got blood on my white carpet," he says getting upset.

The man licks the blood from the other fingers and sinks down to his knees smiling, "oops."

"Brendon," he whines.

He laughs and kisses his cheek, "I'm sorry, baby, but I _can_ always buy you a new one."

Patrick smiles trying to look angry, "okay, I forgive you."

The dark haired man looks at Patrick, "look at you, all dressed up in my favorite color."

"You seriously couldn't wait a little longer?"

"I really didn't like his hands all over my baby boy," he says dragging his finger up Patrick's neck before sucking the liquid off it, "mmm! this one is probably the best one you've ever gotten for me."

He smiles and Brendon licks a line up his throat, the sweet liquid covering his tongue.

Patrick giggles, "yeah?"

He smiles and kisses him, "yeah, you really picked a good one this year."

"Yeah? Did you watch me this time?"

"I did," he says, "I think the show, getting him here, getting him comfortable, getting him all hot for you was great work. Fuck, it was so good watching you act all innocent like that. He really wanted you."

"Do you want me," he asks.

"Do I want you," Brendon asks amused, "course I want you. Wanted you for two hundred year and forty-six years and I'll want you for eternity."

He hums letting Brendon lick the blood from his skin.

"God you've always looked so good in red," he says.

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah," he says.

Patrick unbuttons Brendon's jacket, "might want to take these off. I know how much you hate getting your suits dirty."

He sits up on his knees and pulls the jacket off throwing it onto the couch. Patrick checks his hands before unbuttoning his shirt for him. He takes it off and looks to the man lying on the floor next to Patrick.

"He still alive?"

Patrick nods, "still alive."

Brendon grabs his neck pulling the man onto his feet. His teeth elongate and he puts his mouth on the wound drinking from him. Patrick watches him and when he's finished draining him he throws the body back down onto the carpet. He looks down, his mouth covered in blood as his teeth are still poking out, "sorry, did you want some?"

"I already ate," he tells him, "besides, he's your present."

He smiles and undoes his belt. Patrick's eyes are on the leather strip and when it's pulled off he bites his lip. Brendon smiles watching him undo the pants, "you sure you're not thirsty?"

Patrick looks at him and watches the pants come off along with his socks. The black pair of underwear stare at him and Brendon rubs over his cock, "come here."

Patrick crawls over to him and lets Brendon take his chin in his hand. Before Patrick could touch him he's quick to speak, "hey."

He tilts Patrick's head up to look at him. He waits for a command and Brendon smiles flashing his fangs, "watch the teeth."

He smiles and Brendon finally lets go enjoying the blood he's now licking off his hand. Patrick pulls the underwear down, the man's cock springing free. He licks his lips and wraps them around his cock before bobbing his head. Brendon groans and his fingers sink into the soft blond hair.

"God you are so good at that."

Patrick looks up at him and holds onto his hips taking him deeper. His eyes go back down to focus on what he was doing and his hands slide down to his thighs. He pulls back before going down again. He stays that way moaning around him as Brendon pulls his hair gently. He waits until Patrick goes down again to pull his hair once more. He moans around him and Brendon bites his lip watching him. He begins to move his hips forward slowly fucking Patrick's throat before building up speed. Patrick lets go of his thighs and puts his hands flat on the floor between his legs. Patrick's eyes go up and lock on his letting himself take all of him each time. After a minute Brendon pulls him off, his cock wet and Patrick looking hot as hell. His mouth is open while he's on his hands and knees, his lips glossed with spit and blood. And he can tell the blond's waiting for a command or waiting for him to guide his cock back between his lips.

"I fucking love your mouth," he says letting go of his hair.

His hand goes under Patrick's chin and his thumb runs over his lower lip.

"I love your cock," he says before sucking on his thumb.

He smiles, "get off your knees."

He does as he asks and kisses his way up to his chest before he lifts him up to kiss him. Brendon's head turns after a second so he can kiss Patrick's neck, "you've got three seconds to get upstairs or I'm fucking you on whatever surface I can get to the fastest, and I know you don't want anything broken in here."

Patrick smiles and within an instant he's gone. Brendon heads upstairs quickly to find him sitting on the end of the bed waiting for him, his hands on the mattress. Brendon thought he looked like one of those pretty statues he'd seen years ago in a museum in Greece maybe? He couldn't remember, but Patrick looked just like them, well, except for the blood that was dripping down his body. Brendon didn't hesitate to kneel in front of him and lick a long line up his stomach and chest before kissing him. The blond kissed back eagerly, his teeth extending when the blood touched his tongue.

"I don't know how you're able to control yourself around this stuff," he says licking at his collarbone, "I never could. And I'm older!"

"Unlike you I have self-control," Patrick tells him getting some of the blood onto his finger and drawing on Brendon's chest.

"I have self-control. I didn't cut that guy open until he was here. I even let you give him that little striptease."

"That was for you, of course you didn't. You waited until he couldn't take it and was about to fuck me."

"I like my life partner unfucked by strange men."

Brendon looks down at the center of his chest seeing P+B drawn in the middle of a heart. Brendon looks back to his eyes, "then how about _you_ fuck me."

He smiles and heads over to the dresser pulling out some lube. When he turns back Patrick is waiting on him. He pours some into his palm and starts to lube himself up, letting Patrick stare. The blond watches him before his eyes make their way to the brown eyes that were watching him back.

"Well, you just going to stand there and touch yourself or are you going to come over here and touch me?"

Brendon closes the bottle and tosses it before he walks over uses his leg to nudge Patrick's knees apart. He leans down and his lips ghost over the blond's, but never touch his. Instead he pushes him onto his back, puts his hands under his knees, and pulls him towards the edge of the bed. He smiles up at him as Brendon rubs his cock against the hole. Patrick's eyes don't leave his, even when he bites his lip. Brendon licks his lips and winks before pressing in all the way. Patrick's back arches off the bed and he moans loud. Patrick's teeth begin to poke out again and Brendon smiles. The blond rubs his hand against his stomach getting some of the blood onto it before tracing his own lips with it and licking it off his fingers, "he is a good one."

Brendon pulls him up against him and stands so Patrick's chest is pressed against his. His eyes grow darker until they're a solid black. His mouth is on Patrick's almost instantly kissing him hard while trying to get the blood off. Brendon moves fast, their bodies leaving a dent in the wall when he practically slams Patrick into it. His mouth goes to his neck while his hips fuck into him. His teeth tear into his skin and Patrick moans, "mmm, you know, sharing blood is very intimate and you shouldn't do it unless you're sure they're the one you want forever."

He pulls back and smiles, "if that's the case then drink up, baby boy."

Patrick's eyes go dark and his mouth latches onto his neck, the teeth sinking in. The taste is sweet, not like human blood, something with feeling, meaning. It was special. He pulls back and Brendon licks at the blood still all over Patrick, "fuck, we should do this every month."

"We should," Patrick says.

Black pools slowly turn back to blue and Brendon's go back to the warm brown they once were. He kisses him hard and suddenly they were on the carpet, Patrick's back against the soft white. Brendon's hip smacked into his again and again while he laid underneath him moaning and moving his hands to tangle his fingers in the dark brown locks. There aren't anymore holes being made in Patrick's neck, only soft kisses being planted. A hand goes between them and wraps around his cock stroking him slow.

"You don't have to. This is your day," he breathes.

"And on my day I want you. I want to make a mess of you on our carpet. I want you moaning, panting, I want you saying my name just the way I like."

"Brendon," he smiles.

He laughs against his skin, "yeah, just like that. Say it again for me, baby boy."

"Brendon," he breathes.

The man's hips speed up and Patrick spreads his legs further. One of the hands in Brendon's hair goes down to his shoulder as the hips thrust roughly into his.

"I'm so glad I'm not human," Patrick moans.

"What? You don't miss it?"

"I don't miss the bruises and the broken bones," he breathes.

He laughs, "I always healed those. And I did try to be gentle."

"That's why I'm glad I'm not human, because now you don't have to be."

He kisses his collarbone and Patrick smiles when he nips at his skin, "I don't, do I?"

He shakes his head and bites his lip when his tongue runs back up his neck. That's when his hips move rougher and faster. Patrick's nails go to his back and dig hard into his skin drawing blood over an over, the wounds healing again and again. Patrick practically screams.

"Mmm," he bites his lip for a second before he can't help it, "baise-moi plus fort!"

Brendon laughs against his skin, "fuck, I haven't heard you speak French in forever."

"Tais-toi," he breathes.

"Ooh," he smiles, "you are very demanding today," he pauses, "beg."

"Brendon," he says out of breath.

"Come on, it's been forever since I've heard you talk like this. I'd love to hear you beg a little."

"Je ne supplie pas," he tells him.

He smiles and nips at his neck, "please? For me?"

He pushes Brendon back so he can look him in the eyes while he keeps going. Brendon waits for him and Patrick gives him a desperate look.

"S'il vous plaît?"

"Please what," he asks raising a brow.

"S'il vous plaît laissez-moi jouir!"

He smiles and strokes him faster as he moves the way Patrick wants. He thumbs over the head of his cock while he does and Patrick voice starts shaking.

"Brendon!"

"Say _pretty please_ for me."

He moans as his cock continues to hit his prostate, "Brendon!"

Patrick licks his lips and goes to close his eyes. Brendon kisses under his ear, "say _pretty please_ for me, baby. And then you can cum all over yourself."

He keeps going and Brendon eventually pulls from him seeing the half-lidded eyes looking up at him, "jolie s'il-vous-plaît?"

Brendon kisses him hard and pulls back speeding up his hand and hips. Patrick arches off the carpet and finishes on his stomach.

"Je t'aime!"

"I love you too, baby," he says slowing down his hand, "now why don't you be a good boy and finish me off?"

He pulls back and Patrick nods. Brendon moves to lay on his back and Patrick straddles him sliding the hard cock back inside him and and riding him. Soft hands were placed on his chest and Brendon watches him, tempted to thrust up into him. Patrick moves slow, careful not to let Brendon's cock brush against the still sensitive spot inside him.

"Plus rapide," he tells and Patrick hesitates at first but moved faster biting his lip.

He hits Patrick's prostate and the blond's nails scratch into him hard.

"Fuck," Brendon breathes, "do that again."

Patrick moves up trying not let him hit his prostate, but Brendon thrusts up hitting it on purpose and making a shaky moan leave Patrick's lips, "Brendon!"

"Fuck, I love your voice," he says taking Patrick's hand and kissing his palm, "I could listen to you say my name like that forever."

Patrick moves his hips and whenever he tries to angle away Brendon thrusts and hits the spot that makes him let out a whine or a small squeak. Patrick eventually gives up and just lets him and soon he's panting and moaning while his nails scrape and scratch at Brendon's skin. A few more thrusts and Brendon's gripping Patrick's hips and letting out a loud groan. Patrick gasps and bites his lip when he feels the liquid inside him. Brendon's quick to move Patrick onto his back again and kiss him hard humming against his lips.

"Happy birthday," Patrick smiles.

He laughs and pulls out of him laying on his back beside him, "the sex was amazing, and now you've ruined it."

"Brendon, you know I don't care about your age."

"Easy for you to say, you're only two hundred and sixty-three. I'm a thousand years old."

Patrick raises his eyebrow and Brendon rolls his eyes, "fine, a thousand three hundred and thirty."

"A thousand three hundred and thirty-one," he says tapping his nose.

"I get it, Trick, I'm old."

"Physically you're only seventeen."

"Do you think I'm good looking?"

"I have since the day we met," he says.

"I never told you why I was there the day you fell into that trap, did I?"

"No I just assumed you smelled the blood," he says shaking his head, "tell me."

"I was hunting you," he says, "you were collecting wild plants that were growing and the first time I saw you I was gonna kill you. But a deer walked up on you and I thought for sure you were going to kill it. You had the gun. I thought you'd kill it or scare it off. But for some reason it didn't run away and you gave it one of the plants from your bag. On the third day it let you pet it. I fell in love with watching you, seeing your smile every day. I didn't plan on showing myself, but then you stepped into that trap. I was worried about you and scared to go near you, but I held my breath the best that I could and walked over to you breaking the trap in half."

"And you fed me your blood, which I thought was really weird, but my leg felt fine after a minute, it was all healed."

"I thought you were going to scream, but you didn't."

"I thought you were an angel."

"Quite the opposite," Brendon laughs.

"I wouldn't have been found out there. And I wouldn't have been able to walk all the way into town even if I did free myself."

"You would have figured something out, you're brilliant. You've always been brilliant."

"I knew you were watching me. I saw you a few times, I just figured you were shy or trying to learn about plants. But I knew you wouldn't hurt me because of the deer. They wont show up if they think they're in danger."

"Do you ever regret letting me bite you?"

And Patrick turns his whole body to look at him, "there are times when I think about what would have happened if you hadn't. But I don't regret it. I think it was the best decision I've ever made. And when I turn a thousand three hundred and thirty one I'll still never regret it."

He smiles and leans in kissing him, "you're wonderful."

"So are you," he smiles.

"Why don't you go jump in the shower and I'll get rid of the dead body downstairs. And then when I get back I'll join you."

"Okay."

He helps him up and looks down at the blood stained carpet, "and then we'll clean the carpets."

" _You_ will clean the carpets, _I_ will be packing."

"Packing? Where are you going?"

" _We_ are going on a vacation. To wherever you want."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's your birthday, you can decide this time."

He walks around him and his arms come around his waist as he sighs into Patrick's shoulder.

"Paris," he asks kissing his skin.

When Patrick doesn't answer he says another one, "Rome?"

He kisses his skin again, "India? Australia? Fiji? Costa Rica?"

Patrick smiles at the memory and Brendon rests his head on his shoulder, "how about Jamaica?"

Patrick turns his head to look at him, "you remember that?"

"Yeah," he says, "don't you?"

"Well, yeah, of course I remember it," he says, "I just didn't think you would."

"Hard to forget chasing you for three days," he says.

"You always were faster than me, even when you gave me a head start you always caught me," he laughs.

"I didn't catch you in India," he points out, "but then you decided to show off and run across water to practically everywhere and I finally managed to catch you at the beach in Jamaica."

"And then you touched me in ways no one else ever had," Patrick smiles, "we did things I had never done and it was amazing. _You_ were amazing."

"My favorite beach and favorite memory," he says kissing his cheek, "god I fucked you for hours."

"The poor couple who found us," Patrick says, embarrassed.

He smiles, "you love it, you begged me not to stop until they showed up. If no one had came around I bet we would've fucked the whole day."

Patrick turns to face him while he bites his lip. Brendon's hands rest on his back before they go down to his ass. He kisses him hard and squeezes the soft skin, the blond moaning against his lips. His hands feel him up and trace down his spine before grabbing his ass again, "fuck, you'd better get in the shower before I bend you over the side of that bed and have you speaking in different languages all night."

He smiles and gives him a final kiss before heading to the bathroom, "hurry back, I want you to wash my hair"

"I'll make it quick," he says walking to the door.

"Brendon?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I love you," he says closing the door slowly.

"Je t'aime aussi, mon chéri."

Patrick smiles as he closes the door and Brendon finally leaves to go clean up the mess he'd made downstairs.

\----

Patrick's cleaning the blood from his skin when he feels something behind him. He turns seeing Brendon covered almost head to toe in blood, "I called Spencer to handle the carpet and replace your other one."

Patrick sighs, almost laughing, "I swear I'll never get used to you sneaking up on me like that."

He kisses Patrick's cheek and Patrick smiles wiping the blood off his cheek looking up at him, "you're a mess."

He quickly pulls Patrick to his chest getting him dirty again, "Brendon! I just got cleaned. Now I'm all bloody again."

"Oh no, I guess you're going to have to stay and get all soaped up in here with me," he says pretending to be sorry, "what a shame."

Patrick rolls his eyes playfully and hands him the shampoo, "just wash my hair."

He smiles and does as he asks soaping his hair while Patrick closes his eyes relaxing. Brendon leans in and Patrick speaks, "Brendon Urie, if you get me dirty one more time I'll-"

"You'll what," Brendon asks kissing him.

Patrick kisses back for a second and pulls away. The water washes the soap and blood from their skin and when Patrick's all rinsed off he steps out of the shower.

"Aren't you going to help me get washed up?"

"Actually, I'm going to go ahead and get dressed and start packing our things," he tells him, "then when you finish getting cleaned up everything will be ready for all ready you."

He nods and Patrick leaves the room. He scrubs at his skin, mind wandering to the beach he couldn't wait to see Patrick naked on again. He does hope Patrick remembers to pack a blanket this time so they don't have to do it on their clothes again. Once his hair is washed and his body is no longer covered in blood he gets out of the shower. He dries himself off and wonders if Patrick would want to have sex again before leaving. He rubs his hair with the towel and steps out of the bathroom, dick exposed, hoping Patrick would decide to touch him again. But when he opens the door Patrick is gone. He looks at the bed seeing a packed and ready suitcase with a letter on top, his name written across it neatly. He opens it and takes out the paper.

_I know how much you love to chase me - Always yours, Patrick Stump_

He picks up his phone pressing one and hitting call. Patrick picks up within a second, "hope you don't mind but I gave myself a bit of a head start."

"I don't mind at all," he says, "I love playing this game with you. But I want you to know something."

"And what's that?"

"If I catch you I'm not going to fuck you this time," he says.

He laughs.

"I mean it," he says, no trace of a joke in his tone, "I'm not going to fuck you until you're begging me in every language you know. And even then you don't get to cum until I say you can."

"Mmm, and if you don't catch me?"

"I will take everything slow, kiss you all over, get you all hard and horny for me, and make sweet, sweet love to you on that beach. And I'll talk dirty to you in French the whole time I do it. Then I will carry you all the way to our little house there, get groceries, come back to you, and cook you whatever you'd like. And we'll cuddle up on the couch and watch whatever you wanna watch."

He hears a hum from the blond, "that sounds really good."

"But if I win we order food, you pick it up, and I pick the movie."

Patrick laughs.

"Okay, you pick three movies you want to watch and I pick one of those three."

"Deal," he says.

"Good luck," he tells him, "and may the best man win."

Patrick laughs on the other side.

"Catch me if you can."

**Author's Note:**

> TRANSLATIONS:  
> baise-moi plus fort! - fuck me harder!  
> Tais-toi - Shut up  
> Je ne supplie pas - I do not beg  
> S'il vous plaît? - Please?  
> S'il vous plaît laissez-moi jouir! - Please let me cum!  
> jolie s'il-vous-plaît? - pretty please?  
> Je t'aime! - I love you!  
> Plus rapide - Faster  
> Je t'aime aussi, mon chéri. - I love you too my dear.  
> Sorry if the translations are a little messed up, French isn't my language and I only know a tiny bit. 
> 
> NEWS: I have another story already written, I just wont really have time to edit it until the 15th-16th. Anyway, I promise there's no murder. It is kind of dark though so I promise I will tag EVERYTHING on that one. I just didn't tag a lot on this one because I didn't want to spoil anything and I feel like if I would have it might've gave everything away. I don't know, but for the next one I'll tag everything and I promise it'll be a lot less blood. And also Pete will be a parent and not a love interest.


End file.
